


All I Need You To Be

by Oedaziel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, djiin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oedaziel/pseuds/Oedaziel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many events passed between now and then that it was kind of ridiculous to be thinking about his father now, above all time.</p><p>Except it made sense. Actually, it was one of the last things that made any sense at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Need You To Be

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Tout ce que j'ai besoin que tu sois.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/835231) by [Oedaziel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oedaziel/pseuds/Oedaziel), [OverHeatingMyMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverHeatingMyMind/pseuds/OverHeatingMyMind)



> Thanks to Nat and Thea for beta-ing this and bigger thanks to Thea for making me write it :)

Dean Winchester was lying on the ground of his old bedroom. He had been lying there for hours, staring at the dusty ceiling and the cracks on its edges. Such obvious splits in the walls would have made his father go crazy. John had always been a neat guy who liked to keep everything organised and impeccable. It was one of the aspects of his character that he had overdeveloped while in the service/military. But John Winchester was dead and had been for years. He was, hopefully, out of the pit and was playing baseball in Heaven, along with Mary. That’s what Dean preferred to imagine anyway. Even though the guy had never been a model paternal figure – something Dean rarely acknowledged – he didn’t deserve to be tortured until his soul was too shattered and weary to be a soul anymore, didn’t deserve to become a thing that people like Sam and Dean killed for a living.

So many events passed between now and then that it was kind of ridiculous to be thinking about it now, above all time.

Except it made sense. Actually, it was one of the last things that made any sense at all. Seeing his father go away one last time, smiling at last. It was so surreal and real at the same time that it was disturbing. Ever since Sam died the first time, in his arms, bloody and warm against him, life seemed to have changed in an irreversible way. Nothing ever felt the same again. On November 2nd, 1983, a part of Dean died. The nothingness inside him never truly left; it was soothed, hidden by Sam’s resurrection but there was always something off, something missing. Then he went to hell, came back with not a lot of memories from there, was manhandle by a band of douchebag angels. Then there was the Apocalypse with a capital A and his brother died (again) by jumping in the Pit for a private party with Lucy and Micky. Ah, and Adam, too. Dean was too occupied with mourning that being ‘off’ was a ‘normal thing to be’. But then Sam came back soulless, another worry for Dean, and Cas went all dark side, supernman style, and unleashed freaking Leviathans on Earth, disappeared, went full crazy over bees and lipstick, saved his ass in the end and got sent to Purgatory with him.

Purgatory. Not very much time to think there. It was always survival mode, if you wanted to actually survive, which would be a nice thing to do because he made himself a promise not to let Cas down this time and to take him home with him. In the end, Cas was the one who abandoned him to stay in Purgatory. Then he abandoned him in a hospital, a crypt, in front of a church. He didn’t come when he called, almost killed him, was manipulated, didn’t trust Dean. Lots of stuff keeping him from concentrating on anything else than problems with Cas and other problems about his dying brother.

But now – now Cas is here and Sammy is too. Sammy is fine and it’s awesome to be able to use the term ‘fine’ to define Sam’s state. Almost a year had passed since the first trial. It took a few weeks to get Sam all better, but he’s good now. Hell, he’s great. 

Castiel was another story entirely – it only took a few days to find Castiel but months to bring Cas back. He was so overwhelmed by his guilt that he lost himself in a righteous wrath against Metatron. However, he never left Dean or Sam. Every single time he went out to follow a lead, he knocked on Dean’s door before leaving, put a hand on his shoulder and stared too closely at Dean for several minutes before promising to come back to Dean.

A couple of weeks ago, Cas gave up on saving the Host. The angels were adapting and Dean was losing patience. After everything they’ve been through, seeing Cas become consumed by his plans of revenge was hitting too close to home and Dean just couldn’t let their past come back to haunt them once again. He physically couldn’t afford to lose Castiel, in any way possible.

The night Dean helped Cas to put his vengeance behind, there was a lot of kissing involved and maybe some grabbing too. Well, there was a lot of these two ever since.

 

Dean was still staring at the ceiling when he felt another source of heat press against the right side of his body.

“Dean,” a too familiar voice murmured against his ear. No answer.

“Dean.” Dean felt a hand slide down his stomach, squeezing at his waist.

“I’ve been looking for you for days. You could have said something before leaving, you know. I was told that’s what nice people do.” It wasn’t completely the truth; Dean said it’s what people who care about each other do. But Cas, oh so sweet Cas, probably didn’t want to sound bitter. He probably even still felt guilty about abandoning Dean all those times that he didn’t dare to call Dean on it.

Castiel’s hand tenderly stroked Dean’s ribs. “What’s going on? Dean, say something, please. You’re starting to scare me and I must say I don’t like the feeling very much.” Dean hated that he could actually hear the fear in Cas’s voice. It was subtle, but he could tell that the way his voice lowered at the end or broke a bit in the middle sold him off. Cas shouldn’t even know what he should fear. But heck, he most likely did because Dean did.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Dean started, trying to find the right words. 

“Oh, don’t work too hard on that one.” Cas joked, poking a rib playfully. But it wasn’t the right moment to joke and Cas knew it because Dean had been trying to teach him how to do so. It didn’t matter, though, Cas wasn’t doing it for the sake of a good joke but to avoid what was going to happen next. Yeah, Cas definitely knew.

“None of this is real, is it?” Dean breathed out. He hated how this time it was his voice that broke.

Castiel withdrew his hand to rub his eyes and Dean immediately missed its presence. He sighed loudly and pressed his chin against Dean’s shoulder. “If you’re asking, then you already know the answer.”

Dean immediately stilled. While he was expecting this answer, he had hoped that maybe Cas would fake it. Or deny it. Or prove him wrong; tell him how stupid he was for believing it. Tell him that he had to man up and accept the fact that yes, he can be fortunate like a normal person, and that there isn’t always a price to pay.

But this was reality here. Sort of.

“When –“ Dean took a deep breath, “When did it begin? What was real?” 

Cas winced and pursed his lips. He often did that when he was about to say something he knew Dean wouldn’t like to hear. “Sam died. He died on May 2nd. You tried to bargain your soul for his life with several Crossroad Demons, but you either killed them or they found a way to run away. You never succeeded. No one wanted to make a deal and you were hopeless. You felt too guilty to take your own life, so you ‘accidently’ failed a case and got yourself trapped with –“

“A Djiin”, Dean finished. He did have his suspicions but it was something else entirely to hear it from someone else.

Dean closed his eyes. He wanted to disappear, to vanish in the air. How were you supposed to tell yourself that the last, what, 8 years of your life had been a lie? How did he even fool himself? Christ, he must have been really desperate to fall into a hallucination like this. But then again, thinking of the day Sam died, even if it was years ago – a day or two in real life – he understood exactly why he did it. Sam was his top priority. Sam’s security and wellbeing were above his own safety. It always was. It was just how they were. Weirdly fucked up, co-dependent in a very unhealthy way but all they had was each other and they were there for each other. Except on the day Dean didn’t arrive on time and Sam died in his fucking arms.

It all made sense suddenly. Why he was always on a rush, never having time to take a deep breath.

“You know what’s tragic?” Cas startled Dean by speaking. He was so focused on puzzling everything back that he forgot Cas was still lying a few inches away. “The moment you began to be happy is the moment you decided to remember everything. Why, Dean? Why can’t you let yourself be content, even in your own fabricated paradise? You made all of this, you could have had all you wanted so easily, a mere thought.”

“What do you mean, I made all of this? Are you insinuating that this is all my creation?” Dean gestured abruptly at the ceiling. For the first time that day, he turned his head in Cas’ direction only to glare at him. Cas met his eyes with a reflection of the despair Dean was feeling inside.

“Yes, all of this, Dean. Don’t you get it? Even if you had saved your brother here, you would still feel guilty enough to send yourself to Hell for forty years. By the way, don’t you think it’s a bit odd that you don’t remember most of it? That you didn’t become insane? That you remember just enough to break you?” Cas shook his head slowly, as if Dean’s self-destructive behaviour was a personal offence. “You made your brother betray you, then you tried to make him evil to bear with the pain it caused you, but in the end, he’s always the hero for you, isn’t he? You always wanted him to vanquish his demons. Here you’re a little more… literal.

When you finally let him die, you made me leave too because you don’t think you deserved nice things. After the Apocalypse, any ordinary day would have been very close to it, wouldn’t it? So Sam had to die in order to destroy any hope. And you made me leave. But you couldn’t bear a life without Sam. You started to hate him for making you so miserable without even having to try. You started to hate him because you loved him too much. So you made him come back soulless, thinking it would be easier to loathe someone who didn’t have any feelings or morals, and you put the blame on me. Because even though you like to punish yourself, you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if you were the one responsible for it. So, I go evil to help you feel better about yourself. But you didn’t realise the meaning of our relationship back then. You had to lose me to start acknowledging it. You had to break me to piece me back together so you could believe you were good enough to be with me.”

“Stop” Dean croaked. “I don’t want to hear this, Cas, please, just… don’t.”

“No, you need to hear this because you still don’t get it, Dean. You looked for me for a year in Purgatory when you could have been out. But you made me stay behind and abandon you, all these times, because after everything you put yourself through, you still believed you were not worth being loved. But Dean – Dean it’s over now. We’re together. We’re happy.”

“Except we aren’t. You… Are you even real? How the fuck could I fall in love with a – a supernatural creature! A frigging angel!” A monster, Dean didn’t say, but he didn’t need to. Cas understood him better than anyone else and he always put the fault on the angel mojo, mind reading or whatever power he used to have to get inside his head. Lots of things have a different meaning now. How unfortunate that he secretly never wanted to discover any of this. How easy would it have been to die in the quiet of a lie? It was, after all, the closest to happiness he’d ever be.

“I was made to be loved by you.” Castiel whispered and Dean could feel his smile against his neck. Cas pressed his lips against the flesh and kissed it slowly, eyes closed, concentrating on the sensation and smell. “You mother used to say that angels were watching over you. Even if you don’t admit it to yourself, you covertly hoped she was right. But you couldn’t fall in love with a bible version of an angel, so you made your own kind. Dickish, selfish, self-righteous, manipulative. The Apocalypse was a little too biblical, I confess, but otherwise it was all your own imagination. You were so afraid to find out too soon that none of this was real because the last time you figured it out in one day, that you compensated all very much. But… You still chose to love an angel. Your guardian angel. No one ever watched over you, so how could you not fall for – !”

Dean silenced him with a fierce kiss. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much. How could he even argue? How did any of it make it less genuine? Talking about it wouldn’t ease anything. Talking about it and admiting it wouldn’t make him stop loving Castiel.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t actually here, that all of it happened in his head. It still happened. Everything he felt. The mere thought of Cas being swallowed by the lake still stabbed him right in the heart. He still wanted to puke at the thought of Emmanuel and his wife. His wife. A woman that Castiel – or Emmanuel, it didn’t matter because Emmanuel was still a part of Castiel – chose over him. A wife he was satisfied with, that he liked and even loved sometimes.

It didn’t change the fact that Dean’s heart was breaking.

So Dean kissed him to say everything he couldn’t voice. He gripped Cas’ neck and tugged while his tongue slipped inside Cas’ open mouth in a possessive gesture because he was his. And it was ridiculous because the sole person that ever touched Cas was Dean because Cas is a part of his freaking head and he’s not even an actual person so how dare he make Dean quiver and shiver by caressing his back? How dare he be his whole concept of happiness?

Dean had to push Castiel by the shoulder to escape the grip. He couldn’t solve the problem with an angry and desperate session of wild sex, even though he didn’t doubt it would be amazing, and given the way they had started rutting their crotches in unison, things were definitely leading up to that.

“Cas – Cas!”, Dean moaned breathlessly. There was no way the angel was a virgin a couple of days ago. “I need to ask you… Are you, uh, real? I mean, do you exist in real life?”

Cas shook his head. “There are no such things as angels.”

“So if I wake up… I’ll never see you again.”

Cas laid his palm against Dean’s jaw and caressed his cheek with his thumb. He pressed their foreheads, taking advantage of the moment to lock their eyes. “That’s the thing, Dean,” He spoke gently; “you don’t have to wake up. You can stay here, with me.”

“Cas, I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Dean was closing his eyes, trying to get away when Cas made his eyes snap open again by squeezing Dean’s head once.

“Stay.”

Dean crushed their mouths together again, desperately this time because that’s all he ever wanted to hear. All his life, he had craved for the feeling of belonging and he belonged here. Cas was home to him. Cas was the perfect fit for him because he was as flawed and broken as he was. Cas was the shining piece in a tidal of debris.

Dean realised he was thinking out loud when Cas pinned him down, covering him with his body and made his way between Dean spread legs. Dean was biting Cas’ neck furiously when he grabbed Cas’ hand. Cas looked at him, terrified once he sensed the cold metal of a blade.

“I need you to do this one last thing for me, Cas.”

Cas didn’t answer with words; he wasn’t able to form any in the panic that was quickly overwhelming his body. He frantically shook his head and started to pull off. Dean pushed him down by the neck and kissed him chastely on the tip of the lips until he felt Cas breathe again. They stayed a long time like this, simply breathing each other’s air, brushing their nose and drowning in each other eyes one last time.

Without a word, Castiel pulled the knife and stabbed Dean once. Dean didn’t need to tell him that he loved him; Cas already knew. He didn’t have to tell him that he couldn’t stay because he still had to try to save his brother and save people. He didn’t have to say that he couldn’t stay with Cas because this was everything he ever wanted and it wasn’t fair that it wasn’t real. It wasn’t fair that he fell for an illusion.

Soon, his vision blurred and he started to suffocate in his own blood. There were so many things he wanted to say; how he still needed Cas, how was was everything he needed him to be, how he was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Instead, he said “Thank you, Cas, for everything.”

Cas smiled. “Goodbye, Dean.”


End file.
